


Sister's Keeper

by kimmu



Category: Thor (2011), Thor (Comics)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Original Character(s), Sibling Incest, extreme author self indulgence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-25
Updated: 2012-03-25
Packaged: 2017-11-02 13:09:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/369311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kimmu/pseuds/kimmu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An afternoon in the difficult life of the future king of Asgard. Or, it's really fun to write about future generations and inappropriate love children.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sister's Keeper

**Author's Note:**

  * For [soltian](https://archiveofourown.org/users/soltian/gifts).



> This was written a while ago on a lark based on a conversation held in a livestream concerning threesomes and how Loki's pregnancies actually work and whether or not he could have multiple child fathers like a cat. Don't ask. This all lead to the idea of him managing to get knocked up by both Thor and Balder at the same time just to see how it would all play out. I really love messed up twin relationships and thus, this little fic was born.
> 
> I probably should apologize for the gratuitous creation and use of original characters, only tangential mention of canon characters and relationships, and how horribly self indulgent this is, but I had fun researching old Norse names and putting it up here will make me feel like I was productive today.

A royal garden, secluded and almost stifling under the heat of the mid day sun. A boy kneels amongst the flowers, ignoring the reddening on his skin that will no doubt make his much lamented freckles worse, as he works on gathering bulbs from the soil. It’s peaceful work he enjoys doing with his own hands, something he’s learned from his father.

The quiet is broken by the air being cut and the soft thunk of a dagger burying itself in a tree beyond the boy’s head.

“I saw you looking.”

The boy sets down his tools with a shake of his head. He scratches at his pale copper tinted hair with a dirty hand as he looks up at his accuser. “Looking at what, sister?” The sun glinting off her dark hair is so bright he has to blink warm green eyes a few times before he can make out the downward tilt of her mouth.

The girl says nothing but crosses her arms and raises a slender eyebrow.

“I’ve been in the garden all morning, Thorfríðr. You’ll have to be more specific.”

She punches him full in the face before he can react. He feels his nose give way under the force and thinks in the back of his mind that he’ll have to get yet another tunic made if it bleeds as much this time as it did last time.

_He’d once told their special father, as he called their third father because he was not mad enough to call him mother like Thorfríðr’s father suggested they do, when he was younger about how he was often scolded for ruining his clothes when it was never his fault. He’d been told that when one provokes wild beasts, it was entirely one’s fault for being bitten. When he had started sniffling, he had been petted and told confidentially that it often took nothing more than a gentle touch to soothe them afterwards. He should think about that when dealing with his sister and her tempests._

He catches Thorfríðr’s wrist before she lands a second blow and uses her momentum to pull her down to the ground with him. “Feel better?”

She hisses and knees him hard in the gut but doesn’t retaliate further as she settles herself on top of him. There’s still anger in her pale blue eyes. “No, I don’t. You deserve worse than this, Ari, but it’s no sport when blood has already been drawn.”

He squirms to try and get more comfortable under Thorfríðr’s weight. She’s always been more physically imposing than him and now as they rapidly approach adulthood, she’s close to a head taller than he is.

_He once heard the nurses gossiping about the tremendous height of the princess. One had laughed and said the prince had been born first not because of kingly ambition but out of sheer survival instinct. He was not welcome in the womb for the princess did not know how to share._

“You still haven’t told me why I deserve anything, let alone another bloody nose.” He raises his eyebrows and jerks his chin back. “Or a dagger being thrown at my head. What would our special father say to you using one of your gifts from him like that?”

“Mother would criticize my aim since he would know I meant to slice your cheek open and missed.” Thorfríðr snorts at the worry that creeps into her brother’s eyes. “Joking. Joking, you nag.” She’s quiet for a long moment after that and studies Ari’s face. Smiles at the blood drying on his cheek and leans closer to him. “I saw you looking at those whores they call thane’s daughters in the hall this morning and flirting with them.”

He trembles underneath her and waits for another blow.

She surprises him, like she always does, when one does not come. She kisses him. There’s a little bit too much teeth for it to be sweet, but he smiles and thinks it is anyway.

“Brother, you will look only at me.”

_He once heard their special father say that very same thing to Thorfríðr’s father late one night at a feast children were barred from attending. Thorfríðr had convinced him to join her in spying on the adults. After they had been caught and sent back to their rooms, he had asked his own father if brother really meant the person you love most._

_Balder had not known what to say but that sometimes, they are one and the same and sadly sometimes, they are not._


End file.
